Amadou & Mariam

Amadou & Mariam make the truest form of world music: music for the whole world to enjoy, regardless of background. Their latest album, Dimanche à Bamako, recorded with Manu Chao, has put them on the A-list in France and garnered massive acclaim pretty much everywhere else. We sat down with guitarist Amadou Bagayoko (that's to say he was sitting in France, our interviewer was sitting in Arkansas, and the translator was sitting in New York) to talk about their past, present, and future.

Pitchfork: Last month you held your second Paris Bamako Festival to raise funds for the Institute for the Young Blind in Bamako. How did it go?

Amadou: It went really well. There were a lot of people, and it was like a big party for the musicians as well as the audience. It was really great.

Pitchfork: This Institute is where you met Mariam?

A: Yes, we met there.

Pitchfork: Is that where you began playing music together as well?

A: Yes, I was already playing in different orchestras before that, but we started playing with each other at the school.

Pitchfork: One of the groups you played in was Les Ambassadeurs. How did your experience performing with them affect the music you wanted to play with Mariam once you began working with each other?

A: It helped a lot, because it was like a school where we played many different genres of music.

Pitchfork: What types of music were you playing with Les Ambassadeurs? The recordings all feature Salif Keita, but I've heard that music wasn't all you were playing.

A: It was a variety orchestra, so there were a lot of different singers. We'd play blues, jazz, rock'n'roll, and a lot of interpretations.

Pitchfork: That's a lot of source material. What were the biggest influences on your guitar style?

A: It's mostly the blues and rock I used to listen to.

Pitchfork: When you and Mariam began recording together in the 1980s, were you doing so at home in Mali?

A: We had played on Malian radio together, but the first time that we recorded a cassette, we went to the Ivory Coast.

Pitchfork: Your early recordings on cassette were very simple, just guitar and voices. How did it change the process when you made your first recordings with a band?

A: At first, when we were recording in Ivory Coast, we decided to keep just the guitar and voices in order to really hear the essence of the music. We incorporated the band after the third cassette. We recorded six cassettes in total, and most of them have the band.

Pitchfork: After all those cassettes, when you went to the studio to make Sou Ni Tile, your debut CD, did you change your approach at all, knowing that it would be your first international release?

A: We tried to soften it a little bit, but knowing that the blues and rock-- along with the music of Mali-- were a big part of our songs, we thought that it would go over well with a worldwide audience.

Pitchfork: Well, you've been proven correct. Dimanche à Bamako has been a huge success around the world. What do people think of it in Bamako?

A: It was received with a lot of joy. People are very happy because Dimanche à Bamako (Sunday in Bamako) speaks of the day of partying in Bamako. Dimanche is the wedding day in Bamako, and the people of the city were happy that we decided to speak about this event that's very important to them. And now, at all the weddings, the songs are played all the time by the wedding bands. So, it was really well received in Bamako.

Pitchfork: How did you first connect with Manu Chao?

A: Manu Chao had said in a lot of newspaper articles that he's a big fan of ours, listening to our music night and day. We also like his music a lot, and we love the mixing of different styles he does, especially with music of different origins. So we decided to meet, and it was very easy, because he was very nice. We started to work together in Paris, and then did some sessions in Bamako. We finished the album in Paris.

Pitchfork: How did the process of recording with Manu Chao work? How were the songs composed?

A: We had a few songs ready that we brought to him, such as "La Realite", "Coulibaly", and "Beaux Dimanches". So we met in the studio, and we'd sing the songs just us with guitar. He would add some guitar also, and he also brought some pieces of music he had ready, and Mariam and I sang these songs and added them to the album.

Pitchfork: The album has a really wonderful musical flow, and part of that is provided by the use of traditional instruments. You've never played traditional music, so were you influenced by how those instruments might traditionally be played, or were you just looking for the sound?

A: Well, we want to mix sounds. This is how we play, and we combined these traditional instruments because we wanted to play Malian music, but with influences to make it international and universal. So we try to play the guitar like the ngoni, a traditional stringed instrument. I believe this mix is what makes the sound universal.

Pitchfork: Is the rhythmic intensity of the guitar part on "Coulibaly" related to any of these traditional instrument sounds?

A: It's guitar, but it sounds like the ngoni, and it's this rhythmic way of putting the guitar forward that gives our music its special color. It makes the sound very original.

Pitchfork: I don't speak the language, but I've read that "Politic Amagni" has a political message and that your son Samou, who is a rapper, helped inspire it. What is this song trying to say?

A: Yes, our son is a rapper, and he did bring a political piece to us. It addresses the politicians, to tell them that they should approach politics with honesty. The message is to abandon bad-style politics and corruption. If you want to be in politics, you should try to do it well, with integrity.

Pitchfork: When you first recorded, you had to go to the Ivory Coast, but you were able to record some of Dimanche à Bamako in Mali. I'm curious how the music business in Mali has changed since you began recording in the 80s.

A: There have been huge changes. When we began recording, we had to go to Ivory Coast because there was no music industry here. Our next step was recording in France. This latest album was of course recorded in France and Bamako. In France, they don't have the same way of working. It's been a long time, and we've heard a lot of music traveling, which has influenced our work.

Pitchfork: How do you feel about your son's involvement with that industry?

A: He was always with us hearing music. He chose by himself to go into rap. We didn't at all push him in this direction-- we just found him playing rap one day. We encouraged him, and now he's moving along in this direction.

Pitchfork: You and Mariam were part of the growth of Mali's music industry. What else do you think helped it develop to the extent that it has?

A: Part of what helped the growth of Mali's music industry is that musicians participated in international festivals. Malian musicians like to listen to a lot of music and they're interested in other music. They have a lot of courage. We and others were influenced and encouraged by other Malian musicians such as Ali Farka Toure and Oumou Sangare. This encouragement and openness is what made the Malian music industry grow.

Pitchfork: One of the benefits of all this is that you now get to travel all over the world. You must be hearing new music everywhere. Do you enjoy that travel, and does the music you hear affect your own music?

A: We like traveling a lot, we have a passion for it. We like meeting people and changing audiences. It's very important for us to have our music known internationally. Participating in festivals is enriching for us because we get to meet other musicians, which gives us a lot of experience and helps us in our own music.

We're enjoying our success, but we'd like to make our music more well known, and we're trying to spread it as much as we can.